


Santa Baby

by Llexeh



Series: Steve Is Going to Lose His Damn Mind [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas is hard, Crack Treated Seriously, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone is at least a bit ooc, F/M, How Do I Tag, M/M, Pre-Slash, Steve Needs a Hug, Steve throws tantrums, The Author Regrets Nothing, The author is asking for patience and support, Various mentions of background and / or budding relationships, auto correct trope, group chat trope, shut the duck up, the Author Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 23:30:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9351251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llexeh/pseuds/Llexeh
Summary: All Steve wanted was to make some nice memories with his new family. You know, get a tree up, have a nice dinner, sing some carols. So what if he got a bit overenthusiastic? He absolutely did not want to google Tinder, or be struck by how attractive Tony Stark was. Again.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Joeybelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joeybelle/gifts).



> Hi. I suck. Like, really really suck. This wasn't meant to take this long, or to be this long, damn. I was meant to post this before Christmas so it fits nicely with the Christmas spirit, but instead it's almost a month later and about 6000 words longer than I intended it. In saying that, mind the unnecessary length of this - it's mostly idealistic fluff very reminiscent of Quizilla fics (hopefully written better.) Loads of tropes - Christmas, presents, tantrums, soft angst, the usual. I've tried my best to not make it sound like I'm twelve and writing on some obscure forum at the end of the internet, but at the end of the day this is tagged as serious-ish crack and it should be taken with a grain of salt. (Make that a bag of salt just for good measure.) Keep in mind everybody is out of character to some extent. (I can't say for sure if everybody is also kung fu fighting.) 
> 
> Given how this is going, there's a long way until Steve and Tony get together - just a fair warning, since I like knowing this shit when I start reading something. Meanwhile, there's gonna be a lot of stream of consciousness from Steve and a lot of cursing the universe. There's gonna be fluff and hopefully funny situations. I hope you stick around to see this to the end, but if you don't I can't blame you. Slow burn fics are sometimes too slow for this world. 
> 
> This is a gift for Joey again, who put up with me taking forever to go see Rogue One and who supports my writing no matter how annoying I am. 
> 
> Very unbeta-ed. Unbetaed? Unbeta'ed? This word is still awkward.
> 
> Later edit: I just realised that there was no warning for the (very) brief scene that can be construed as self harm on Steve's end. Just for full disclosure purposes, he uses scalding water knowing it would heal almost instantly. This is not done in a fit, or with the self harm end goal in mind. But I know first hand it can be triggering. My apologies for not being more considerate sooner. Sending love and strength.

The second time he was left speechless by how attractive Tony was, Steve blamed it all on Father Christmas and the stupid, very stupid revolving Christmas tree. The fairy tale-like snow didn’t help.

Life shouldn’t have gone back to normal, Steve was perfectly aware of this. But it had, as much as normal could be when he had to live with the ever-present thought pushed in the back of his mind that he was attracted to his teammate. It was like a permanent wound that wouldn’t heal, and Steve knew the comparison wasn’t right, but it was what it was. Weeks went by with minimum danger of the train incident repeating. He didn’t make a conscious effort to avoid the man, not even on the very following day.

He’d handed out coffee and painkillers to his hungover teammates, laughed at Darcy flopping down on the kitchen island and growling at anyone who tried to move her, tried not to get too jealous at the easy way Bruce’s hand patted her shoulder when he sat next to her, aggressively suppressed the shudder threatening to escape when Tony walked in, hair sticking out, pyjama pants riding low on his hips, and laughed at Natasha threatening Bucky to cut his other arm off if he didn’t stop singing. You know, the usual.

So life went back to normal, with missions that left Clint in a neck brace for a couple of weeks and broke four of Steve’s ribs. He apologised for healing by next morning when Clint hissed at him from the couch, high on prescription painkillers. Steve didn’t plan on spending half a day watching him play something called Minecraft, but when someone yelled “pizza’s here!” he realised it was dinner time and the marksman built the most uneven house Steve had ever seen.

He went in to help train the hand-picked members of a tac team with Natasha. They were cocky, bordering on rude. Nat took two of them out of commission for a month. He made two of them resign before they were fired on very strong accusations of sexism and damn near sexual harassment. One of them cried. It was beautiful to watch, and it made wonders to Steve’s scattered mind. At the end of the day he discreetly high-fived Natasha. Fury’s yelling could reportedly be heard two floors down.

For Bruce’s birthday they bought party hats and horns, sat down in the living room and played board games for the entire night. Tony bought inordinate amounts of Indian food and no one mentioned jelly dicks. Steve sighed happily when Clint swore he didn’t plan anything outrageous. The biggest surprise of the night was Bruce winning at poker. The process was hilarious, with Darcy on his side as a lucky charm after she lost. She put on a ridiculous accent and pouted and smirked at everyone. When Clint was out, he borrowed her lipstick and mirrored her behaviour. After enough tequila, they pulled a Marilyn Monroe doing Happy Birthday, and Natasha laughed harder than anyone’d ever seen her. Despite Steve’s miserable longing, they had a lot of fun and it seemed they were all getting closer; which was all Steve could hope for, really.

They decided to spend Christmas together, another example of team bonding that left Steve confused but hopeful. It would be his first Christmas with Bucky since the fall, and it would be the first one in many years when he felt he had a family. He didn’t have remarkable memories of Christmas celebrations with his mother, and since he came back it was always some average pot roast from a restaurant or the other. He was doing this Christmas right for the first time.

In true leader fashion, he called for a meeting with the available Avengers the evening after Bruce’s birthday. It was leaving things a bit late, he knew, but at the same time he didn’t want to hijack the scientist’s special day. They all gathered round the kitchen island in various stages of hangover – and really, what would the people say if they knew just how many days of the year the Avengers spent suffering from drinking too much? Steve brought out the whiteboard and coloured markers. He’d drawn the chart earlier that day, when everyone was off hiding from the daylight.

“So you’re okay with using a real tree? Do you know the rate of deforestation in this country?” Tony asked him from the counter where he was perched, drinking what was definitely something with alcohol in it.

Steve rolled his eyes. “We’re replanting it at the Avengers Facility. I already emailed Martha and they’d be happy to help,” he replied and returned to the whiteboard.

“Who the hell is Martha? And do you know how much a real tree _sheds_?”

“Tony –" he started, but Natasha was quick to interrupt him.

“Stark, we’re doing this right and getting the damn tree. Next,” she shouted and immediately regretted it, judging by the wince on her face.

Tony huffed. “Fine, but if you think there are any decorations in this tower, you’re delusional. How are you gonna solve that, huh?” he asked with a smirk.

Steve was prepared for some opposition, but it was a bit more visceral than he’d expected. “We create a task force and go… shopping,” he finished dramatically, adding a fake gasp for good measure.

When the chuckles around the room died down, Sam touched his shoulder. “Not to burst your bubble, but I’m with Stark on this one. It’s the 19th of December. Do you have _any_ idea what kind of madness we’re facing?”

Steve sighed, feeling old. “Surely it can’t be that –"

“Don’t say bad. It’s worse than bad,” Bruce said with an apologetic smile.

“Fine! I’ll get the tree and do the decoration shopping,” he said, starting to get short with everyone. It was definitely not going according to plan. “In fact, why don’t we scrape the entire thing, and I organise Christmas on my own? You just have to turn up. Or not, whatever you want.” He gathered his markers and the whiteboard, heading for the door.

“Steve, we’ll help!” Clint shouted behind him.

“You can help,” Tony said quietly. “I’d rather not face the rabid masses this time of the year.”

“Don’t be an asshole,” Steve heard Natasha say right as the door slammed behind him.

He couldn’t exactly pinpoint why he was so aggravated by the entire situation. Part of him was hoping they would be more excited – if they could get hyped up about movie night, Steve figured this was just some next level event. It was supposed to be a team thing, a _family_ thing. And yes, it could be hurtful not to have actual family around this time of the year, but Steve thought a surrogate was better than nothing. So they’d all gather round, watch crappy holiday movies, drink and eat, and just do newly-regular things. He’d never properly had that. Besides, it would be Thor’s first real celebration. Not to mention the twins – yes, they came from a different culture, but the sentiment was genuine. And he knew for a fact Vision interrogated Clint about the true meaning of the holiday, so at least he was curious, if not excited.

Steve never did Christmas, and now he had a family and as annoying and uncooperating as they were, he would see his plan through and make it happen. If they wanted to join him, they were more than welcome.

He reverted to his original idea, carefully laid out in his notebook. He spent the night googling and texting Pepper at odd hours with questions about the best places in New York to buy things without too much hassle. Bless her, she was more helpful than all of the Avengers combined. Someone had tried to offer him dinner, but Steve was in (what he identified on a bathroom break as) a teenage angst spree. He smiled at the thought that it was probably what Tony was calling it. And as annoyed as he was with the man, he still found it endearing. In all fairness, Steve was being uncharacteristically petulant. So what?

He managed a few hours of sleep before dragging himself out of bed. He was just getting dressed for the day when Darcy burst into his room, Bruce in tow. She wasn’t at the meeting he called the day before, and he figured Bruce brought her up to speed.

“Morning, Captain Grumpy. Peace offering from the shit team,” she said and handed him a travel mug filled with blissful hot coffee.

He took it with a nod and didn’t even wince when it burned his tongue – it would heal in no time. It was Tony’s good blend, the one he kept for particularly rough days. “Does he know?”

“He made it,” Bruce said with an eye roll.

Darcy pulled a hat over her ears and wrapped herself in a purple scarf. “Now if you’re done throwing a tantrum, we’re going out to buy shit for Christmas.” Bruce helped her into her coat.

“Not throwing a tantrum,” Steve said.

“ _So_ throwing a tantrum,” Darcy countered with a smile. “But, hey! It’s fine. Christmas is cool and wanting to celebrate a family holiday is cool. The fifteen feet of snow outside? Less cool, but I figure if I’m breaking a leg one of you will carry me home. So, win-win!”

Steve laughed and turned to Bruce. “You sure about this? Lots of people aren’t really your favourite thing.”

He shrugged and gave Darcy a quick look. “It’ll be fine. I figure even the Other Guy knows better than to ruin Christmas.”

Steve had no idea what the two of them were, but he knew it was definitely good when the young woman in front of him leaned over to kiss Bruce’s cheek and half-whisper, “Yeah, he knows I’ll _never_ forgive him if he did.” Steve swore Bruce’s eyes flashed green before returning to the usual brown. “Now can we go before I sweat my skin off?”

He would never admit to anyone, especially to Tony, but they had all been right. It was complete madness. And the snow definitely didn’t help. Steve gritted his teeth, pulled the woolen hat lower on his forehead and opened their way with his larger frame. Behind him, Darcy was pulling Bruce by the hand, laughing at something. Steve absolutely refused to feel like a third wheel.

 

> _Send us photos of the tree before you buy it. (Also, I swear Peter doesn’t do teen angst as well as you do.)_ _xoxo_

Tony’s text made Steve laugh and his ears burn. 

> _Why are you even texting me? Aren’t you busy not caring about this?_
> 
> _In a meeting, busy not caring about this more. Look at me prioritizing!_

Steve pocketed his phone, determined to find a suitable tree. And to ignore the question about how Tony knew where they were. Tony could find out everything if he wanted. It would surprise literally no one if he had microscopic tracking devices hidden on all of them. His phone went off again, and Steve nearly facepalmed. All phones had GPS. All phones were Stark issued. Steve had half a thought to hurl it in the snow and confuse the hell out of Tony. It went off again, and then again. Behind him, Bruce and Darcy were dealing with the same problem. The cacophony of sounds was unbearable. _Now_ Steve really wanted to throw his phone away.

For some bizarre reason – probably to abate his boredom, really – Tony decided to create yet another group chat. It said a lot about how passive the Avengers were on threatless mornings if they all started texting at the same time. Steve had dealt with group chats before, and he was proficient in turning off notifications and ignoring the inane shit they all sent when nothing else was happening. But his hands were gloved, and even if the cold was not that much of a problem to him, it was still a hassle.

 

> Clint: _Show us the tree!_
> 
> Bucky: _Are you gonna be much longer? I could use a training buddy._
> 
> Clint: _The tree, Rogers._
> 
> Clint: _tree tree tree_
> 
> Natasha: _Clint stop._
> 
> Clint: _tree tree tree_
> 
> Tony: _Best idea I’ve had in a while._
> 
> Thor: _This is Jane. Thor says he would really like to see the tree._
> 
> Wanda: _What is everyone talking about?_
> 
> Pietro: _Yeah, we’re fine just in case anyone was wondering._
> 
> Clint: _treetreetreetree_
> 
> Tony: _Yeah, Rogers. The tree._
> 
> Vision: _I don’t see how pestering the Captain is going to speed up the process._
> 
> Clint: _Steve_
> 
> Clint: _the tree_
> 
> Natasha: _Don’t make me come downstairs and punch you_
> 
> Bucky: _I can’t even tell who that’s for._
> 
> Natasha: _All of you, I’m trying to pass this level and it keeps going off_
> 
> Natasha: _The notifications are covering the top of my board_
> 
> Natasha: _Stop it_
> 
> Clint: _did you buy it yet? who made coffee today, my heart’s going to expldoe_
> 
> Tony: _hahaha you’re my favourite people_
> 
> Natasha: _Seriously, did you lace his with speed or something?_
> 
> Bucky: _There’s drugs? Stevie, get a proper one yeah?_
> 
> Darcy sent a photo attachment.
> 
> Clint: _you two look so cute!!!_
> 
> Tony: _Why is Bruce not online?_
> 
> Darcy: _He says you’re too annoying, turned it off_
> 
> Clint: _so did you pick one?_
> 
> Darcy: _Do you understand how cold it is? My fingerprints are going to freeze._
> 
> Tony: _Why didn’t you get those smartphone gloves things that work_
> 
> Tony: _I thought I ordered like twenty pairs_
> 
> Tony: _No one appreciates me_
> 
> Bucky: _Can you pick up some burgers on the way home please_
> 
> Clint: _let him buy the tree_
> 
> Clint: _so?_
> 
> Steve: _shut the duck up_

He didn’t stick around to see if there was any response to his swearing. He switched to airplane mode and shoved it in his coat pocket. He turned to Darcy’s roars of laughter and Bruce biting his lips struggling to contain his.

“What?” Steve snapped at both of them.

“Duck,” was all Darcy managed and laughed again. He just accepted that she was insane and moved deeper into the tree market.

It took the better part of an hour, but they were victorious. After much consideration and measuring, they bought a twelve feet tall monster tree. Steve sighed at Darcy’s suggestion, but snapped a photo of her standing next to it for comparison. He ignored the four hundred something messages and sent the photo. It truly was monstrous. Steve loved it.

They were left with the dilemma of how to get it back, and for the first time, Steve could see his plan was perhaps ill-conceived. It would take entirely too much time, and lugging it around through the masses of tourists and shoppers alike would be hell. Bruce half-jokingly offered to commandeer a van in the name of the law, wearing the least plausible law-enforcement expression Steve had ever seen.

With another long-suffering sigh betraying his age (he fleetingly thought this was all he did recently), Steve pulled his phone out.

“You’re a rational being who I don’t currently want to punch,” he said instead of hello.

Vision was quiet for a second. “Thank you, Captain. How can I help you?”

“Can you fly to our location and take this massive tree off our hands? We still have errands to run and it would help us a lot.”

“Of course. I shouldn’t be long.” Vision was doing so much better with adapting his speech patterns to those of real people. Contractions were the newest addition.

“Thank you so much. I owe you one,” Steve said and hung up.

Bruce was kind enough to buy them hot chocolate. Steve carried the tree to a side alley where they would hopefully not attract that much attention. They ran through all the places they still had to go to and made a battle plan. Steve was starting to get excited again.

Vision was nothing if not efficient. Within minutes he was flying away with their Christmas tree. Considering it a small victory, Steve threw himself into the hordes of people, entering shop after shop. By early afternoon, they were finally done. Ladened with baubles, and hundreds of yards of lights and tinsel and ribbon, they finally hopped into a taxi and made their way to the tower. Steve made sure to not buy Bucky any burgers.

To say the living room was in chaos was the understatement of the year. Despite their normally good cooperation skills, his teammates were completely lost when it came to uprighting a tree. Natasha was standing on the coffee table, her thumb up in front of her. She was barking orders to Thor and Bucky who were doing their best to place it exactly where she wanted.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, his hands full of bags.

“Don’t you mean ‘what the duck are you doing?’” Clint asked laughing.

“So not in the mood,” he replied and dropped his shopping on an armchair. “How is this so difficult?”

Bucky let go of his side of the tree to go stand next to Natasha. Surprised by it, Thor dropped the thing and stumbled forward. The threat of the god squashing the otherwise sturdy branches was real, and Steve found himself shouting along the others. Salvation came from the door frame, where Wanda was literally working her magic to stop both the tree from certain doom, and the Avenger from falling. It resulted in him being suspended in mid air, and the tree surrounded by a protective bright red shield. For a moment, Steve could have kissed her in gratitude. Then he really looked at her.

There was a nasty gash running all the way from her elbow to her wrist. Her cheek was bruised, and he noticed the dark circles under her eyes. He was by her side immediately.

“What happened?” he asked as he helped her to a chair.

“The mission went well, but we didn’t expect the immediate retaliation.” She sat down and gently lowered Thor on the floor. The tree was still hovering enveloped in her magic.

Vision kneeled to check the cut on her arm. “Are you feeling alright?”

She nodded. “Just very tired. I haven’t slept in about four days.”

Natasha tutted and sat down on the arm of the sofa. “Wanda, where’s Pietro?” The young girl visibly bristled and a spike of magic lashed out from her fingers.

“In medical, they broke his kneecap. I had to keep his bones together with magic all the way back.”

Steve was on his feet immediately, starting towards the door just as it opened. Tony walked in holding a Stark pad, swiping left and right. “Calm down, Captain Nurse, he’s currently in surgery.” He stopped and looked around the room. “Tinder, not as fun as Pepper made it sound.” At Steve’s irritated arm-folding, he sighed. “Even if we all rush and stare through a window right now, there’s nothing we can do to help.”

“What’s Tinder?”

“Not now, Thor,” Steve replied, refusing to let them know that his knowledge of Tinder was limited at best. Darcy once mentioned using it to meet people for casual sex, and he was more concerned with Bruce breaking a beaker at the time than finding out more. “Is now really the time?” Steve asked with a frown.

“Surprisingly difficult to get people to believe I’m me regardless of when I do it.”

“Stark,” came the one-word warning from Natasha, and Tony dropped the attitude. He lifted his hands in surrender.

“Honestly, I was just looking through footage of the attack.” He walked to Wanda and touched her shoulder carefully. “A job well done, kid,” he told her. “How about a shower and sleep? And maybe some stitches? I promise I’ll make them give you the nice local anesthetic and a lollipop at the end? Maybe an Iron Man bandaid?”

She laughed weakly. “I also saved the tree,” she said simply. “And I don’t want to be in Medical right now.”

Tony turned towards the tree. “What, you couldn’t get an entire forest?” he asked Steve.

“Not in the -”

“Mood, yeah I know. I heard you the first fifteen times. Come on kid, I’ll get someone downstairs so you don’t have to see him right now? How’s that?”

Wanda smiled and nodded. “Much better, thank you.” She grabbed Tony’s arm and pulled herself up. “I’ll be okay, guys. Thank you.” She touched Clint’s hand briefly and turned towards Tony. “And pancakes?”

Tony started walking them towards the door. “I thought we agreed that was our secret.” There was a pause that Steve knew was for dramatic effect. “But yes, with the nice blueberry jam.”

They were almost out of the room when the rustling noise got to Steve. His head snapped towards the tree and watched it fall in what was surely slow motion. “Wanda! Please!”

The witch reacted as quickly as she could given her fatigue and caught the tree at the right time again. “Shit, sorry! I forgot!” She made it revolve slowly in the air trying to find the best side to be facing the room. “It’s a pretty tree,” she told Steve with a small smile. “Do you have any preferences?”

Clint beamed, perched on the back of the sofa as he tended to do in exciting times. “Man, it’d be great if we could get a revolving tree! Say, Cap, wanna take another trip and look for one of those revolving thingies?”

Steve opened his mouth, but Tony beat him to talking. As usual. “He’s not in the mood, Hawk, you heard the man. For someone who’s this excited about a holiday some of us don’t care about, he sure is missing his famous mood.”

There was the usual lightheartedness to Tony’s words, but the underlying snark didn’t go unobserved. He had no idea what he’d done wrong, but there was no way he was going to start an argument when one of his teammates was in surgery and the other one was going to pass out any minute.

“I’ll turn it for you, Clint,” he said and walked up to the tree. “That should get me in the mood.”

“Tinder could help get you in the mood,” Tony said cheerfully, and Steve was so so very close to snapping. He shoved his hands between the branches and grabbed the tree’s trunk.

“You can let go, Wanda. Thank you! Go get stitched up and have some rest,” he told her.

There was a reply, maybe more things that people said behind him, the door shutting. All he could hear was his blood rushing in his ears, the heat running up the back of his neck and burning the base of his skull. He was vaguely worried he was going to snap the tree because his anger sometimes made him to that. Just tear wood apart like some sort of savage. It was one of those things that kept him up at three in the morning when he cringed so hard his cheeks went red and he had to duck his head in the pillow.

His foot jutted out under the tree kicking around to find the stand they’d bought. He had not thought this through at all. His head was burning with the silent rage. There was no reason for the ugly words, or the not-light-at-all quips, or the accusations. Steve only wanted to have a family for Christmas. Maybe with Tony’s attitude, it would feel just like home. There was a reason he had no particular memories about Christmas and would you look at that, even when he tried to make them happen, it wasn’t working.

“Steve!” he finally heard, and judging by the loudness of the call, it wasn’t the first time it was said. Bucky was by his side, holding what looked like a large metal tripod and a mug of something steaming. “You okay?”

“I am fantastic,” Steve said slowly, ridiculously emphasising each word. He was quiet, not wanting for everyone to hear him sarcastically lashing out. “Any more fantastic, and they’ll recruit me as a fifth member. Maybe Johnny’s single this time of the week.”

“Dude,” Clint said from his other side, “wouldn’t that be a lot like touching yourself?”

“For the last time,” Steve started with a clipped voice, “it’s just in the right light that we even look similar at all. Also, can someone please help me with this, or should I just hold it for the rest of the season?” He tried looking around without jostling the tree too much. “At least then I’d be useful,” he added very quietly. Both his team mates pretended not to hear.

“Here,” Bucky said, and dropped the stand next to the tree. “Lift and to the right. Other right, Stevie, for God’s sake have you never put a tree in a stand before?”

“No,” Steve replied. “You know I haven’t.”

Bucky stayed quiet, guiding the trunk in the large hole. “There,” he said, “all done.”

Steve let go slowly, making sure the tree wouldn’t topple, and eventually stepped back to look at it. “All crooked, you mean.” He sighed. “You know, I’m going to shower and have something to eat and maybe take a nap,” he informed them as cheerfully as he could without sounding fake. It clearly didn’t work, but they were kind people, and let Steve go.

“We’ll wait for you,” Darcy shouted from the kitchen where she and Bruce were putting together a snack.

“Don’t worry, feel free to decorate if you want to,” he said and hurried back to the sanctuary of his room.

Maybe Steve was really a teenager, like a very late side effect of the serum. Or maybe it was a being-attracted-to-Tony side effect. Maybe Steve was just dumb as all hell and he couldn’t manage his dumb emotions and his dumb expectations and maybe Steve was just dumb. That could have been it. He took a long hot shower, scalding his skin slightly and feeling it heal, and scalding it again, and feeling it heal. He didn’t know how long he was in there for, and when he emerged he was annoyed that it hadn’t worked. He had half a mind to walk down to the lab and shove Tony into a wall and strangle him, but also kiss him, and was Tony into that?

Steve took his phone out and googled Tinder in an incognito window. Tony would know he did it, incognito or not, because Tony knew everything that went on when any of them used the internet, but at least it wouldn’t show up in his browsing history, and Steve was picking his battles. Steve hated Tinder very very much.

He started on Wikipedia and went on to read articles about why Tinder was destroying human interaction, and other articles about how Tinder was a godsent for people who were busy or had trouble establishing human contact without the added feeling of security that distance and a possibility to sever the connection of any time gave them. He spent at least half an hour entertaining the possibility that Tony was into choking, and another half an hour trying to convince himself not to masturbate furiously.

His shoulders almost hurt with the tension, and his lower back tingled mercilessly with the unwanted arousal. Yet another cruel aspect of his life, because everyone dying while he was frozen wasn’t enough. Then he thought of Tony rolling his eyes while Steve’s large hand covered his neck, and that was that. With a heavy sigh, thinking it was a bad idea, and it would create a very annoying and persistent precedent, he shoved his hand in his boxers as quickly as he could. He didn’t need to make a spectacle of touching himself, it wasn’t his finest moment, and he didn’t want a visual reminder of it. It was over mercifully quick, and the feeling of shame wasn’t the one he remembered from his teen years, the one drilled in his mind by the church. It was a different kind of shame - Steve felt weak and powerless, and as he spent more time in this fucking mess of a situation (and that did not include the come all over his hand), he felt more like pre-serum and less like Captain America, righteous hero to the defenseless. Steve was a joke, a sham.

He washed his dick in the sink, like the savage he was, and put on clean underwear and comfortable tracksuit bottoms. He walked out of his room with a heavy heart and a very loud mind, and even more annoying, more sexually frustrated than he’d been in a long time. Excellent. Christmas couldn’t come and go quick fast enough.

He went to check on Pietro first. Medical informed him he was going to be okay. He would heal quicker than normal, something to do with the enhancements, but it would still take a couple of weeks of walking with a crutch. Steve knew it was going to be hell for the young man and he promised he would try to help as much as he could. He walked by the lab where Tony was headbanging to some music the soundproofed walls didn’t allow to escape. In the corner, Wanda was fast asleep, covered with a thick blanket and holding on to a t-shirt of Pietro’s. Steve walked away from them, back to the now-dreaded task of decorating. He wished he’d kept his stupid mouth shut about Christmas.

In the large living room, the tree now had the fairy lights on. Darcy was sitting on Thor’s shoulders, holding on to two braids in the man’s hair. She made horse riding noises and laughing at the same time. Steve wasn’t even phased any more. He accepted the mug of hot chocolate from Bruce, who was watching her guide Thor around the Christmas tree with a tilted head.

“I hope she never changes,” he told Steve.

“I doubt there’s chance for that, Bruce. If meeting all of us hasn’t, there isn’t much chance of anything else doing it.” Steve left the implication of bad things unsaid, and Bruce allowed it because the thought of it was too painful for both of them.

“Captain Tantrum! You’re back!” Darcy shouted from Thor’s shoulders. “Come on, tell me what you need on this tree and I’ll sort it out for you on my mighty steed!”

“Bruce?”

“The liquid in her hot chocolate was bourbon, she’s been pretending Thor’s a velociraptor for fifteen minutes before she switched to a mighty steed just as you walked in.”

“Ah, I see. And Thor?”

“I think he just likes it, to be honest.”

“Today, Cap! We’re not getting any younger! Well, you’re not getting any older either, but I don’t know, just tell me what to put on Ben!”

“Is Ben the…?”

“Yep,” Bruce confirmed and took a sip of what Steve was sure was spiked hot chocolate.

There was a loud “HA!” from the sofa where Bucky and Clint were racing what looked like really expensive cars. Steve sighed and picked the silver tinsel from a bag. “Why don’t you start with this and we’ll see from there?”

Darcy nodded solemnly and picked the end of the long strip. “Come on Thor, let’s run around the tree and make sure this gets _everywhere_!”

“Yes, Lady Darcy,” Thor said and Steve couldn’t stop laughing when Darcy shouted, “Golly! A talking horse!”

It went on like that for a while, with Steve holding one end of the tinsel and running in circles around the tree with Darcy riding Thor around the other side, criss-crossing the strips. Bruce made sure to push it between the branches, to evenly cover every surface.

Wanda emerged from the lab wearing an old t-shirt of Tony’s and hair sticking out everywhere. She looked younger than usual, even with the bandages on her arm, and Steve felt a spike of endearment towards her. She walked up to them, fiddling with the hem of the top. “Pietro’s going to be alright,” she said quietly. “The last time we had a tree was when we were six,” she offered.

“Whoa, boy!” Darcy shouted and made Thor stop. “Well then,” she said with a smile, “come help us make this your tree as well.”

Wanda nodded and started levitating ribbon, draping it on the smaller branches that the tinsel didn’t cover. She made it fold into neat bows wherever she thought they looked good.

Clint popped up from the sofa, kneeling and leaning on the back of it with a grin. “Make it spin, make it spin!” If Steve was a teenager, Clint was essentially five.

Wanda laughed and made it revolve slowly, eyeing where more decorations were needed. Natasha joined them and started bending paper clips to use for the baubles. She methodically inserted them through the tiny holes and lined them up for later use. Occasionally, Bucky would look back at the tree and smile at Steve. It was starting to feel like family, and there was an inkling of hope that maybe Christmas could still be nice.

Vision floated through the wall covered in colourful paper chains. They were hanging around his neck and shoulders and arms, and he was holding even more in his hands, making him look like a kindergarten art project gone extreme. “I watched a tutorial, and people said these are popular around this holiday, so I made some.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Some?”

“I may have gone a bit overboard,” he admitted and Wanda went to help him stick them around the room. She levitated more ribbon and they started working on it.

Darcy finally hopped off Thor and sat on Bruce’s lap on the large armchair. “I’ll nap now, horseriding is very tiring,” she informed and kissed him briefly before settling down.

They had started on the baubles when Jane walked in with a box. She placed it on the coffee table and started going through it. “These are all the decorations Darcy and I collected. Some are spectacularly ugly, but I thought maybe you’d want to use some of them.” Steve was moved, and went to thank her, but she was already walking out the room, twisting her hair in a bun and holding it in place with a pen. She stopped, ran up to Thor to kiss him once, and then ran out of the room babbling about formulas and work work work.

Tony pushed in a trolley full of paper bags around the time they were considering stopping and leaving room for their absent team and friends to add to the tree. “Dinner!” he shouted, and everyone rallied around him. “Look at me provide for my family,” he said to all of them, clapping a couple of times in an usual display of self-congratulation.

“Real head of the family,” Bucky said peeking into a bag. “Ah, yeah! Burgers! See Steve? He remembered!”

“I remembered too,” Steve informed him, picking a bag at random. “I just didn’t get you any because you’re a dick.”

“You wound me,” Bucky said and touched his heart dramatically.

“I will if you don’t stop being one,” Steve said, reenacting a conversation they had almost daily since he could remember being friends. When they were not presumed dead. 

Tony tutted and went to pour himself a drink. “Now, now children. Daddy’s going to take your toys away if you don’t behave.” (Steve pretended he didn’t bend his head down so much it nearly went into the bag when the word “daddy” left Tony’s mouth.) “God, you call me ostentatious and _this_ is the tree we’re having? It looks like Santa Claus vomited all over it and then decorated it some more.”

“It’s just the right shade of gaudy for you, then,” Bruce told him with no real heat behind the words.

“Not a fan of Christmas,” Tony said quickly and then continued to talk about some experiment of his, effectively dismissing the entire Christmas conversation.

Pepper joined them, taking her heels off as soon as she entered the room. Her loud gasp and happy smile told Steve he’d done a good job. “Guys, this is so pretty!” She was handed the large box of baubles they had left and she placed a couple on before turning towards them. “Okay good news and more good news, which ones do you want first?”

They thought Clint’s full mouth might have said “the good news”, but they couldn’t be sure.

“Good news it is! Pietro’s soon going to be allowed to wheel around the tower for reasons I don’t understand given he had just had surgery six hours ago.” Wanda smiled widely, getting up. “And,” Pepper started holding a hand up to stop her, “the more good news is he’s going to join us for the photo we’re taking as our Christmas card!” She announced cheerfully.

Tony opened his mouth and Pepper covered it effectively with her hand. “Don’t you dare say no, Tony.” She said with a manic smile. “We’re taking the photo and we’re selling it at the New Year’s charity gala and we’re donating the money and you’ll be in it whether you want it or not,” she finished, and Steve was impressed by the sing-song qualities her little rant took towards the end.

Tony mumbled in her hand before gently removing it and clearing his voice. “And when would this photoshoot take place, Christmas is happening soon in case you missed the memo,” he said and waved frantically towards the large tree.

“As soon as Pietro’s feeling up to it and we get everyone together. We don’t need it until the 31st, so you have plenty of time to try and get out of it and ultimately agree because you know how much it means to me.”

Tony spluttered, looked around widely, and got up. “Going to work now, byeeee!”

“He’ll do it,” she said and grabbed a burger for herself. “It’s for children.”

***

Pietro was allowed around the tower on the 24th. They’d visited him and decorated his hospital bed and even put a nice wreath on the door. Wanda tied bows on it, and Darcy covered it in glitter and silver beads. They took to singing loudly whenever Pietro’s whining got too much, which was roughly eight times a day that they knew of. Bruce kept feeding him sweets to quiet him, and Clint smuggled pizza in one night.

When he was finally allowed to leave the room, his anticipation was palpable. He literally shook with excitement, although if it was for the holiday or for being anywhere else, Steve didn’t know.

He shrieked when he saw the tree, trying to make his wheelchair go faster. “It’s so great,” he said in awe. He turned to Wanda, then to all his teammates gathered around it. “It’s been -”

“Yeah,” she said and ruffled his hair. “Come on, we saved the star for you.”

Pietro’s eyes widened. “Really?” he asked Steve, who was always the man he turned to for confirmation and orders.

“Really,” Steve replied and handed him a large silver star. “Darcy and Clint insisted that we put the A on it,” he said and pointed to the cardboard letter that was glued to the glass ornament.

Pepper pushed Tony in, throwing a sweater at him. She put the large box she was carrying on the floor and joined them. “Hello Pietro, are you excited?” she asked, a beaming smile on her face.

“Yes!” Pietro said and turned to Wanda. The girl gently lifted him up to the top of the tree. He slid the upright branch into the ornament and clapped loudly. The A was truly ugly. Steve loved it more than anything. Wanda lowered Pietro to be at their level.

“Do it, Tony,” Pepper ordered. “Remember I have blackmail material and I am not above using it to make you do things for me,” she said, her voice getting that singing lilt again.

“You used to be such a nice girl, Pepper,” Tony said, sliding the sweater over his head. He emerged with crazy hair and a scowl. When he rolled it down his torso, the knitted Grinch on it was his spitting image. “What happened?”

“I started working for you,” she replied and pushed the box towards them. “Come on, grab a sweater, put it on, stand around the tree. Someone help Pietro, please,” she instructed quickly. “We need a photo of the official team - Rhodey go next to Tony, maybe some of your maturity will rub off on him. Photo for the auction first, and then we can take some for us.”

She arranged them and fixed the camera on the tripod. “Okay, on three say ‘Avengers’! And because that doesn’t work, also smile. One, two…” The shutter went on a couple of times. Pepper went through the photos she took and consulted Darcy. “Okay we got it! Now for the other ones.” She urged them all to gather up once more for their personal photos before setting the timer. “Go crazy, guys, it’s our first Christmas together.”

Steve could have kissed her.

They had to take a vote on when to open presents. Some of them advocated for Christmas Day, others for the Eve. Once they started on the eggnog, the vote swayed towards the Eve, and in the end it was settled for midnight.

Steve had been prepping for the dinner for days. He had a lot of help from Darcy and Clint and even Vision, and it was a labour of love but he was extremely ready to not cook for a while. He was also nervous about the food; he tried cooking people’s favourites, and foods that were traditional to where they were from. Some ingredients were impossible to get, and he improvised the best he could. When they sat down to eat, Steve was so tense he could barely touch anything. It was a litany of appreciative noises from around the table, and Steve felt his shoulders relax slightly.

 _“Kholodets!”_ Natasha exclaimed as she lifted a lid. “Steve, _kholodets_!” She turned to look at him and leaned over the table to kiss his forehead. Pietro joined her in wondering at the traditional Russian dish while Wanda mouthed her thanks.

“We normally celebrate on the 7th of January,” Wanda said casually.

Steve stopped eating. “Why didn’t you say something? It’s not fair to -”

“Hey,” she interrupted him, “Christmas on the 25th is better than no Christmas. Pietro and I, our parents weren’t religious and back there it was religious for a lot of people. So it’s the thought, the family,” she told him, trying to keep the conversation private. It didn’t work at all, of course.

Natasha smiled. “I remember when Christmas didn’t exist. They moved it to the 1st of January. In the… in the Red Room we knew there was a celebration on the 7th and we knew what it was, but we were never allowed. It was just another day.”

Bruce coughed once to draw attention to him and immediately regretted based on his lost look. Darcy touched his hand and smiled. “My aunt gets drunk every year and slaps the turkey,” she offered with a shrug.

Natasha snorted and turned to look at the large bird on the table. “Do you take after her side of the family?”

Darcy grinned and fluttered her lashes. “I guess we’ll find out,” she said and winked at the turkey.

Clint shoved pigs in blankets in his mouth, throwing Steve a thumbs up and an enthusiastic nod. Bucky thanked him for making the roast potatoes the way his mother used to. Steve smiled widely and pointed towards the turkey. “Not that slapping it wouldn’t be amazing to watch,” he rolled his eyes, “but who wants to carve it?”

They looked at each other, trying to figure out what he meant. Tony was surprisingly the one to answer, not even lifting his head from his potato salad. “You, of course. And hurry up, I want to get to that crisp skin sooner rather than later.” When no one said anything, he looked up. “What?”

Steve shrugged. “It’s your tower, Tony. Maybe you should do it?”

Tony made a show of leaning back and rolling his eyes because he was the biggest drama queen, no matter how many tantrums Steve threw. “This is your tower as well. You all have rooms and little nooks of happiness and the building is actually in all of our names.” He sipped his mulled wine. “What?” he asked again in that impatient voice.

“Tony did you forget to tell them?” Pepper’s voice taking a slight shrill quality. “Tony, I sent you thirteen god damned emails and got Friday to sing to you. What did you do, sleep through all of it?” Tony stayed quiet, looking anywhere but ahead of him, where Pepper’s hand shot up to rest on her hip. “You’re an idiot,” she announced and kicked his shin under the table.

“I was working on a space suit and then I passed out and when I woke up Mr Fantastic was calling me and I just flew out to beat the crap out of a Doombot and to avoid Reed’s annoying voice. And I guess I forgot,” he finished lamely.

“Tony.” Steve’s voice was serious, he knew, but there was no accusation behind it. Tony forgot to eat and sleep and sit down, this was not new.

“When we rebuilt this,” he gestured around him, “I put it down with the Avengers as the owners. Then I kept adding people to the list of what the Avengers mean. It’s not a big deal, your name on the papers or not this is your home.” He pushed the turkey symbolically. The bird was huge. “Now carve it and feed us, Captain… Captain? I’ll have to think about it,” he told Steve, and that was the end of it.

On his part, Steve did his best to carve it as neatly as possible. It wasn’t like he had a lot of experience, or any really. Steve didn’t know a lot about a great deal of things. So he stood and tried to remember any circumstance in his life where carving a turkey had been a thing. If he’d known this was going to happen, he would have allocated three minutes to a youtube tutorial, risking the merciless teasing from Tony. In all fairness the scientist had been good with mocking Steve about his searches, but there was a knowing look. Maybe Steve was also paranoid on top of everything else he was discovering about himself.

He picked up the fork, feeling very self conscious about how slow he perceived his movement. Maybe they had drunk enough not to notice the slight tremor in his fingers. Steve bashed people’s heads in with his shield. This was ridiculous. He went for one of the legs, trying to position the knife as well as possible. The small shriek when a manicured hand shot out and slapped the turkey’s breast absolutely _did not_ happen. Steve would go to his grave claiming that. Darcy howled with laughter at his little jump, and the others were in various degrees of hysterics. Steve hated all of them. He cut through the crispy skin with a scowl on his face. This was ridiculous. Again. He pushed the leg down with the fork, then cut straight through the ball joint.

The drumstick went on a plate, and it was out of Steve’s hands how they were all going to fight over who wants what. He kept going, piling up slices of almost-evenly-carved meat on a large platter. He was about to sit back down when he remembered. He picked the fork up again and poked through the skin on the remaining breast, then pulled slightly.

“Plate,” he said quietly to Tony, whose head snapped up looking around frantically.

“Don’t let them see us,” he whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear him.

“Stark give me the damn plate before I eat all the skin off this bird in front of you and make you watch,” Steve said in a normal voice.

“Promise? I love watching,” came the reply and Steve was about half a wrong breath away from smacking Tony’s hands with the carving fork.

“I’ll make sure to put on a show,” he said sitting down, trying hard for unimpressed and annoyed. That should definitely be the title of his autobiography if he ever decided to write it. Actually, a couple more words: frozen, frustrated, confused - the usual.

Dinner was a success as far as Steve was concerned. The teasing was familiar, and they shared stories of the few happy things they could remember about Christmas. When the conversation turned darker, Vision starting blasting “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and then awkwardly singing along. They tried to keep Steve from helping with clearing the table, but he still managed to sneak past them and start loading the dishwasher.

There was a sharp poke between his shoulderblades just as he was bending to rearrange some plates. It didn’t hurt, but it was uncomfortable enough to make him turn and look up.

“Come on, you can do dishes tomorrow as well,” Tony said and started pulling at his shoulder and then tried to push him towards the door. “There are about eighteen mugs in my lab and at least six bowls you can wash if you feel like it. Tomorrow,” he added, and tried moving Steve again.

“Just go sort out the drinks, I’ll be done here in a minute,” he tried for reason.

“No more doing things around the house tonight, you’re too big to be a house elf. And they’re not as cute. Now move,” he kept prodding at his chest, pulling at his arms, and even yanked his hair a little.

“Harry Potter, right?” Steve checked.

“Yes, yes, now come along.” When there was no sign of success Tony sighed, cocked his head, tutted, sighed again, and lightly backhanded Steve’s shoulder in the quickest succession Steve had seen. “Wanda!”

“Told you,” came her voice, and Steve found himself being floated away from the almost loaded dishwasher.  He scowled and waited for it to be over.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn? Literally one more minute, Stark.”

“Yeah, yeah, and then you’d have wanted to scrub the oven, and polish the silverware, and knit some warm tiny socks for homeless kittens, and we’d have been here all night waiting for you. Now sit down,” he said just as Wanda lowered him on the sofa, between Bucky and Pepper.

Getting presents was always an uncomfortable experience for Steve. After his mother died, Bucky was the only one who got him anything, and even that was cut short when he left. So Steve was awkward and a bit uncertain what to do with his hands. He tried to be as normal as possible when he unwrapped them, and he was grateful at everyone’s enthusiasm for not noticing the slight shaking of his fingers. He was amazed at how much thought they’d all put into what they got him. Steve received a new sketchbook, all the Star Wars movies, new pencils and -

“T-shirts that fit. Yeah, that’s right, no more gallivanting around the tower looking like your arms are being strangled,” Sam said with a smirk.

“What is wrong with you?” and “Are you actually insane Wilson?” and “What’s next, getting him in a bin bag?” and “Pepper, now! Take them away now when he’s not looking!” and Steve was honestly baffled.

“What are you talking about?” he asked looking around the room.

Natasha patted his head gently. “You don’t worry about this now,” she told him slowly.

“Nat…”

“Oh, it’s about your clothes.” He shook his head. “You know, the two sizes too small, match the sky blue colour of your eyes… the usual.”

“What?”

“Some of us have an appreciation for nice things in life,” Pepper offered. “Like how your back looks in blue t-shirts that are two sizes too small. And Sam Wilson The Traitor,” she added casually, “wants to take that away from us.”

“Pepper, I don’t -” Steve tried, but got interrupted again.

“Pepper, just take the damn things away and we’re all going to be okay!” Tony shouted and Steve reacted by holding his new clothes tighter.

“I think I’ll keep them,” he told them with a smile. “I wouldn’t want Sam to be offended.”

“You ruined Christmas,” Darcy shouted and then turned to Bruce. “You know I don’t -”

“Yeah, yeah I know,” he said, and kissed her temple.

If Steve was more conceited, he could have sworn Bruce said “I know he’s hot”, but he refused to accept it. He urged them all to keep shredding wrapping paper and they mercifully agreed. He caught Tony’s eye for a second and was left confused about what the scowl on his teammate’s face meant. There was a distinct annoyance in the way Tony stared at the t-shirts. Steve moved on to unwrap a cologne from Natasha and a foldable easel that had his initials brutally carved on the side. He could recognise Bucky’s ugly handwriting everywhere.

“What did you use, a butter knife?” he asked.

“My teeth,” came the quick reply and Steve burst into laughter.

Clint’s new controller set was a great hit with him, and Bucky caught the one the marksman threw at him. They settled on the floor quickly and immersed themselves into their usual friendly competition that involved about twenty swear words per minute. Natasha kissed his cheek softly for her new necklace, and Darcy threw herself at him in “eternal gratitude” for her new taser.

“Tony can add to it, I’m sure,” he told her as she hugged him repeatedly.

“We can probably put a small arc reactor in it, maybe even make it sing,” Tony confirmed. “Come to my lab some time, we’ll talk,” he said and nodded at Steve. “Thanks for my mug, Darce,” he added, using both hands to hold on to the huge mug. It had bad drawings of the Avengers and it was absolutely glorious.

Pepper thanked him for the leather journal, and Bruce thanked him for his new fountain pen. Steve decided again he loved giving presents because it was never about him. He accepted the hot chocolate with a nod, and settled to watch his family rejoice in their gifts.

***

As a general rule, Steve could go with almost no sleep at all. Sure, he felt tired, but it wasn’t a tragedy. He tried to keep a balanced life, tried to sleep enough and eat right, and exercise - all of which Bucky called overkill, and used to mock him endlessly. Steve remembered what it was like to feel like no air would ever enter his lungs again, or how it felt to not be able to jog for ten feet. So Steve was grateful, and honestly? he actually liked salads and working out. Bucky mocked him for that too, saying that it was natural he liked it when he already had the body for it. Steve punched him then, and all was good in the world again.

Steve spent hours watching the ceiling after their casual party finally broke up around two in the morning. He got up and tried drawing, but his hands didn’t cooperate - it seemed a common thing these days. He tried reading the new book he got, but he couldn’t focus. He tried doing crosswords, but his mind was loud and eventually he gave up and waited. He could normally fall asleep as soon as he wanted, courtesy of years having to do it in various army settings, but it seemed not even that worked right. Steve was a downright mess.

He kept hearing Tony’s harsh words, then Tony’s protests towards the t-shirts that fit better, then what he thought was some sort of friendly flirting, and it took forever for him to actually manage to sleep. When the knock came on his door, Steve felt like it was too soon, and grunted his dismissal. Much later, when he finally got up and showered, his head hurt in a way it only did when there was a physical injury. He wondered if it was actually a memory of the headaches he used to get before the serum. It was close to noon when he emerged from his room, and his stupid fast metabolism reminded him that it needed food and it needed it soon.

It was one of those split second things when he saw the red and gold wrapping paper. He had actually shut his door when the thought sunk in, and walked back in to investigate. The second he realised what he was looking at he could have punched himself in the face. The present for Tony, the one he spent ages on was sitting on his desk patiently. Steve was an idiot.

He picked it up and hurried to the living room. As soon as he walked in, hair sticking out from running his hands through it, present perched on his hip, and eyes looking around wildly, Steve felt it. The same train from last time, with the same precise speed and the same merciless power. Steve felt like someone stabbed him in the kidneys. The force of his recurring epiphany was enough to make him stop abruptly and any words he might have thought of saying died in his constricted throat.

Tony was on the floor, wearing a Christmas hat and his Christmas sweater, surrounded by children who rallied around him. There was a little girl on one of his knees, and a little boy on the other. They both kept touching his beard and his face, as if to make sure he was real. Steve had a very distinct urge to do the same. Behind him, the tree was revolving slowly, and Steve checked around the room for Wanda. There was no one else there except for Tony and the children. Wouldn’t that be a great band name? Even a great superhero team name.

Outside, the snow had some fairy tale qualities to it, falling down peacefully with large snowflakes that were sure to stick to everything. Steve wasn’t fond of the snow or the ice, or even the cold really, but it bathed the room (and subsequently Tony) in some dreamy-fairy-crap light and Steve found that he could start liking it.

“Look kids, it’s Captain America! In his glorious tracksuit bottoms and mercifully tight t-shirt, and sans shield but with a present inste - Steve that won’t help in battle,” he said, tickling the two kids on his lap slightly.

Steve was in love. This was it.

Some of the kids looked up and their eyes widened dramatically before they ran up to him. They all stopped just shy of jumping up into his arms, and turned back to look at Tony. “Go on, he’s not gonna get mad at you! Are you kidding me, this is Captain America! You could shoot at him and he’d still hug you!”

Steve would have denied it, but he knew it was true. He put the gift down and squatted to be closer to their heights. “Hi, I’m Steve.” he offered simply.

The kids smiled and started shouting their names at him. He shook every single one of their little hands and accepted that Ben, who was almost five, wanted to hug him. He picked up the kid and walked back to sit down opposite to Tony.

“Did you know our tree’s called Ben?” Steve asked the little boy who shook his head from his hiding place in Steve’s neck.

“It is?” Tony asked.

“Oh, yes,” Steve said and patted Ben’s head slowly. “Darcy named it when she was riding around it on her mighty steed.”

“There was a horse in here?” Tony asked, his tone even more perplexed.

“Not a horse, Tony, a mighty steed!” he emphasised. “How about you bring the box of decorations over here,” he asked the kids, “and I can get you up on my shoulders so you put them in the tree?”

Ben leaned back and looked at Steve. “Is that okay?”

“Of course! Go on, we’ll be here.” As soon as the kids were half into the box, Steve turned to Tony. “Did you seriously think there would have been a horse in the tower?”

Tony shrugged. “There’s a Norse god, The Hulk, and two enhanced kids who can kick as - butt! I said butt, Steve!” Tony yelped at the kick in the shin.

“Tony said butt!” one of the kids yelled and Steve loved the blush spreading on the scientist’s cheeks more than anything in the world.

“Would it be hard to believe there was a horse? Our washing machines sing ‘Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?’ when we put them on,” he whispered.

“When was the last time you touched the washing machines? Actually when was the first?” Steve whispered-shouted back.

“When I made them sing!” Tony said and burst into laughter.

Steve was gone. This was it, he was gone. Good bye forever. Tony’s eyes crinkled and it physically hurt Steve because he just wanted to hold the man. He wanted to hold the man and sit on the floor and look at the stupid revolving tree -

“Tony why is the tree moving?”

“Ah, well. You see. There was a sort of. You know, I don’t actually know why. Maybe it’s some Christmas miracle -”

“Tony.”

“I just fiddled with this scrap metal I had in the lab, put an engine on it, it’s no big deal,” he finally replied, looking around the room to avoid Steve’s face.

“When did you even have time to do it?”

“Well, last night when I didn’t sleep?”

Steve didn’t know how it happened, but he just found himself blurting, “I forgot to give you your present!”

Tony nodded, then shrugged. “It’s okay, I just figured you didn’t get me anything.”

Steve spluttered. “How? I got everyone something.”

“Sometimes you don’t like me much, and I don’t blame you, it’s not a big deal.”

Steve honestly, honest to god, as honest as he could possible be, felt like crying. He also felt like kissing Tony, and punching him a little, and hugging him, and kissing the stupid lines in the corners of his eyes, and run his hands through his hair, and Steve needed to get a fucking grasp on reality sooner rather than later.

“That’s bullshit,” he whispered, wary of the kids hearing him.

Tony gasped and clutched at his chest. “Captain! America! How could you? Kids, Steve says we should all sing some carols while he picks you up and you can ride him like a horse - AH I see!”

“Told you. And I’m a steed.”

Marie had a lisp so when she said “steed” repeatedly while perched on Steve’s shoulders, he struggled not to laugh and shake her even harder. Tony started singing ‘Santa Baby’ before it dawned on him that it was not exactly appropriate or a carol, and moved on to ‘Deck the Halls.’

All the Avengers came in to say hi, shepherded by Pepper who brought them cookies and hot chocolate. Jane was a hit with a couple of little girls who wanted to be scientists, and Natasha showed some of them how to get out of a hold before she was rushed away. “I’ll be good,” she shouted, “just let me tell them what not to do when they’re attacked from the side.”

Vision let all the kids touch him, and giggled when tiny fingers poked at the Mind Stone. “I don’t think it likes the tickling,” he said trying to stifle his laughter. The kids were fascinated by Bucky’s arm, even though he wore a long sleeved top to try and hide it. They lifted the sleeve and started counting the segments, asking what it could do and if they could draw on it. When Bucky informed them crayons wouldn’t show, he offered the alternative of paper and his company. They readily agreed.

Steve found Tony sitting on the kitchen counter by the fridge. He was waiting for the coffee to be ready, idly rearranging magnets. “You okay?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, just a bit tired. I’ll be back to belting out Rudolph’s name in a minute.”

“Please don’t,” Steve said with a smile. “I don’t think the serum was meant to protect me from such things.”

Tony smiled back and it warmed Steve’s heart. “Is that for me?”

Steve nodded and handed him the box. “I don’t know how I missed it, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, how dare you not reciprocate my thoughtful gift of an improvement on the shield that isn’t ready because I didn’t get round to manage to steal it from you and now it’s too late cause you already know so can you bring it downstairs soon?”

Steve huffed, trying not to get closer to him. He was leaning on the kitchen island, safe from giving in to his now constant wish of touching the man in any way he could. “I thought you gave me the Star Wars boxset?”

“And the Avengers figurine collection,” Tony added patiently.

“The shield’s fine as it is, don’t worry about it. We had a spending limit anyway!”

“Steve, I’m Tony Stark, I’ve never had a spending limit,” he said and sipped his freshly poured coffee. “Now hand it over and let me see.”

Steve fiddled with it. “It’s really not that great,” he told him. He really wished he’d remembered to give Tony the present the day before so he could have opened it then and it wouldn’t have been that big of a deal.

“Shhh, hand it over, there you go, that’s a good Captain, okay now let go, okay? Okay, great, now step back a little? Perfect, thank you.”

Steve was more nervous than before battle. Battles were routine, he trained for battles. They ran scenarios, sparred, tried to plan for unpredicted, and Steve was a soldier so battles gave him a rush of sorts. But this was new and horrible and Steve really wanted his shield.

“I’m gonna go back to -”

It wasn’t like Tony said anything, but he was halfway through unwrapping the box - and this time he didn’t just tear at it like a savage. Steve wanted to go, maybe even to get the shield and bring it back, and he was sure there was something to do with the kids, but Tony took the lid off and gasped and Steve was rooted to the marble tiles he was standing on.

It took weeks to be able to put together the photo album that Tony was currently caressing, apparently afraid of opening. Steve had talked to Peggy and Peggy had directed him to some other old SHIELD members, who then pointed out archives for him. Then he had to physically spend time sifting through papers and reports, then to make more phone calls and pull rank in order to get copies of the photos. A couple he actually stole because there was a limit to his patience, and rude people were not a helping factor.

The pages were filled with black and white photos of young Maria and Howard, of baby Tony, of Jarvis holding Tony, of Peggy cuddling him on the floor, of a toddler Tony sleeping with a toy Captain America shield. There were photos of Howard trying to calm Tony down as he was holding a meeting with what looked like officials. It spread out over years, and Steve had to persuade Vision to put in a good word with Friday to get some photos of teen Tony, and he was now torn between regretting everything and moving to the depths of the Arctic Ocean, and kissing the man’s watery eyes.

“How?”

“Called in some favours, talked to Peggy, the usual. Is it okay? I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped the line or -”

Tony hopped off the counter and took the few steps to where Steve was standing. “No no don’t. I mean I could have lived three content lifetimes without you ever seeing that photo of me and the toy shield. Or the one where I’m drooling on Peggy’s shirt - that’s not even really cute and I’m pretty sure I don’t do that anymore, I don’t actually know, there was no one to comment on it so I don’t -”

“Tony.”

“It’s perfect,” he said quietly, “thank you so much.” He placed it next to Steve and slowly lifted his arms to envelop Steve in a hug. On his part, Steve was still, letting Tony do his thing at his own pace. Once he was sure the man settled, he hugged him back; they stayed like that for a few moments.

“Tony, why are there children in our living room?”

The man burst into laughter, shaking both of them as he pulled back. He went to wipe the dampness under his eyes that were not fully formed tears, but Steve knew. “You played with all of them for hours before asking, really?”

“I don’t mind!” Steve said defensively. “I love spending time with them, I was just curious.”

“I just forget how accepting you are of things,” Tony offered as a very subtle apology in case he offended Steve. “Pepper looks after them through the foundation. They’ve either been abandoned or orphaned. A couple of them… their parents were killed in action. She called this morning and asked if she could bring them over. Their caretakers were delighted with the idea and I said yes because Christmas is hard.”

Steve wanted to hug Tony again, but there was a time and a place and probably a limit on how many times they could do that. If Steve had his way he would hug Tony at the smallest of prompts. Oh, Tony woke up? Better hug him. Oh, Tony walked? Better hug him. Now there was a precedent - Steve thought fleetingly there were quite a few of those happening recently - and Steve knew how it felt. Things were not going to get any easier.

“I know you’re not a fan. I really wanted us to have a kind-of-family thing just to make some nice memories, you know?” Tony nodded. “Thanks for making the tree spin, Clint is ecstatic.”

“Thanks for making the tree happen,” Tony countered and they left it at that.

The silence was oddly not uncomfortable. Steve ended up getting coffee for himself and Tony would occasionally open the album at a random page and smile. It was a good feeling to have done something nice for someone he cared about.

“Come on,” Tony said, packing the album back in its box and heading towards the door. “The kids will leave soon and I wanna say goodbye. Pepper’s got gifts for them, as well.”

Steve nodded. “Go ahead, I’ll tidy up a bit and -”

“Seriously? You’re going to load up the dishwasher now? This is deja vu. Why are you doing this to me again?”

“Just go!”

“Fine. But Steve?”

“Yeah.”

“You know you could have ordered all the decorations and everything on Amazon, right? I mean we do have Prime and just saying, you could have if you wanted.”

Steve was mindful of the kids hearing, but he still couldn’t help himself. “Fuck off, Tony.”

**Author's Note:**

> Natasha's talk about Christmas is based on her age according to the MCU wikia and historical developments in the Soviet Union. "Khodelets" is a traditional dish in Eastern Europe, although whether that is the word actual Russians use or not, I really can't be sure. My apologies if I got something wrong. 
> 
> The 7th of January is the actual date of Christmas according to the Julian calendar. Many Orthodox people celebrate it then. Sokovian customs are influenced by the Eastern European customs I grew up with since it's not an actual country. 
> 
> Please try not to be a dick if you choose to comment, it helps no one. Thanks for reading, much love <3
> 
> Come say to me on [tumblr](https://llexeh.tumblr.com/), I'm terribly lonely.


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